By The Time You Read This, I Will Be Gone
by DarkandtwistyGirl
Summary: AU. Pre-series. Sam is young, miserable, and has access to dozens of weapons, it’s a dangerous mix. Can Dean reach him in time? *Complete*
1. Can't Go On

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and probably never will. Seeing what I do to them in my fics, that's probably a good thing.**

**Warning! This is a very dark fic. Honestly I'm in a pretty dark place right now, and I just had to write this fic. I hope you like it.**

**Listen to 'I'll Be There For You' by Bon Jovi**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"By the time you read this I will be gone."

The lone words written in Sam's neat handwriting, on a note pad left on the table of their latest motel room shake a twenty one year old Dean to the core, tearing him apart.

Dean's so worn out from their last hunt, he was only asleep for a few minutes. Surely Sam wouldn't have had the time to do anything, but still, that niggling doubt sparks an internal debate. On one hand, Dean can't believe that Sam would ever do what this note implies, but on the other hand… he's been so down lately.

_What does he mean?! This can't be right, no way, Sammy would never…_

_Things have been kinda rough on the kid the past few months. No, no way, there's no way…_

_But think about it, the time he spends locked away in the bathroom, the 'accidents' that only an idiot would believe. Stop fooling yourself here Dean, you've gotta do something, before it's too late._

_No way, this isn't happening, no, Sam would never even think about, and even if he did, what would he do? The weapons are locked in the trunk, I've got the key right here in my-_

Dean reaches into his pocket confidently, and is brought to a crashing halt as he realises that it is missing. He practically leaps over the couch in his haste to look out the window, and sure enough, his seventeen year old, possibly suicidal brother has taken the car, and with it the majority of their weapons cache.

_Shit! What the hell are you doing, Sammy?! Where've you gone?_

Without any further delay, Dean runs out of the unit, towards the nearest car, an old, beat up pickup. He doesn't even think twice about breaking into it, and hot wiring it, before speeding off towards a small lookout just outside of town, he'd made fun of Sam for spending so much time there, it's the best lead he's got.

* * *

As Dean pushes the old rust bucket of a car to its limits he tries desperately to fight off the thoughts that threaten to overwhelm him, the possible scenarios, but when he reaches the lookout the reality is so much worse than he ever could've imagined.

The Impala is parked somewhat out of sight, but Dean sees it straight away, he leaps out of the car, and calls out. "Sammy!?! Sam, where are you?!"

He glances around at the area, and notices something, some kind of material, almost completely hidden from his view by an old stonewall. Dean apprehensively approaches the object, and as he rounds the corner, bringing the object into full view he cannot suppress the gasp of horror that escapes him.

Sam is lying on the ground, a 38 dropped beside him, blood splattered across the wall behind him, rapidly pouring out of a gunshot wound to his head.

In an instant Dean drops to his knees beside his baby brother, quickly trying to assess his condition, ignoring the tears blurring his vision. Sam is barely breathing, the back of his skull has been ripped apart, Dean can barely push down the wave of nausea that hits him as he realises that he can see Sam's brain, torn apart by the bullet.

Dean starts to shake as he remembers that the nearest hospital is over two hours away, he pulls out his phone and calls 911, but deep down he know that there's nothing he can do, there's no way he can get Sam help in time, he can barely believe when faced with the volume of blood that Sam is even still alive now.

Dean slips into a state of shock, frozen until he is snapped back to reality by the harsh rattle of Sam struggling to breathe, numb, unable to even think, Dean pulls his brother off the dirt, and moves so that he is cradling him against his chest.

And as he sits there, holding his baby brother tightly, his tears intermingling with the massive amount of blood that now covers him and Sam, Sam's blood, praying desperately that the ambulance can get there in time, but in his heart knowing that it won't, Dean knows as he feels Sam slipping away what he has to do.

He can't survive without Sam, protect Sam, that's his only real reason for living the look after his little brother, and now he's dying.

As Sam draws a final shuddering breathe, Dean picks up the handgun, left abandoned beside the brothers, and puts it to his own head, he pauses only briefly, whispering to Sam "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry I couldn't save you" before he gently squeezes the trigger, ending his life at the moment his brother heart finally stops beating.

* * *

**The End. Maybe?**

**Thanks for reading! Please review, the more the better, but even just a couple of words would be great.**

**Do you want to read more of this, or should I leave it as a one-shot? I'm open to suggestions for a second part to this fic.**


	2. Grief

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and probably never will. Seeing what I do to them in my fics, that's probably a good thing.**

**Warning! This is a very dark fic. **

**And jus to make this clear, I live in Aus, and so while the places I've written about are to the best of my knowledge real, I got it all from Google Earth, so sorry for any errors.**

**Thanks so much everyone for reading and reviewing this fic! And now by popular demand, here's the second part to this fic. I hope you like it.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

As his sons' lives end, John suddenly sits bolt upright in his bed, where he's only just stumbled into from a long afternoon of drinking. Completely out of the blue he gets this awful feeling in his gut, something is wrong.

Climbing wearily out of bed, John goes out to the living room, searching for his kids, running on instinct. "Sam? Dean?" He calls out, searching, but he stops abruptly as he glances down at the table, where his eye is caught by the note, he reads it quickly, feeling his heart speeding up as panic sets in.

He then notices that one of them has left the TV on, and it is now showing a news broadcast. _We are live here at Jackson Lakes State Park, where just minutes ago an EMS team discovered a gruesome scene. _

At this moment, John notices the Impala parked in the shrubbery at the edge of the screen, and not knowing that he is already too late, John rushes out of the motel, and follows in his eldest son's path, stealing the nearest car before speeding off towards the lookout.

_Please, oh please god, don't let it be my boy. I can't lose Sam too. _

* * *

John's worst fears are confirmed as he pulls up in the crowded carpark, in amongst emergency vehicles and news vans, he goes straight to the police barricade, and tries to slip past.

"Keep back sir." A police officer tells John, pushing him back just as he ducks under the barricade.

Desperate for information, John grabs hold of the police officer's sleeve, and worriedly pleads with him. "Please, I need to know what's happening." He points out his car, saying. "That's mine, and I can't… I found a note at the motel, please I think it's my boy."

The police officer hesitates slightly, and then, keeping a hold on John so he won't see the scene, he lets him through, and takes him over to one of the police cars, sitting him down as he says. "What's your son's name, sir? Can you give me a description?"

Shakily, John pulls out his wallet, taking out a relatively new picture of his family as he answers. "Sam, his name's Sam. He's fifteen."

The police officer then takes a look at the offered picture, and barely contains a sigh as he recognises not one, but two of the young men in the picture. This man hasn't only lost one son, he's lost two. Not seeing John as anything but a soon to be grieving, somewhat drunk father, the police officer doesn't even think to call over some help to restrain John as he tells him. "Sir, there were two victims. I'm so sorry." Before he knows what is happening, the police officer is on the ground, his jaw aching from a powerful blow, and John has taken off towards the scene.

* * *

John is barely even aware of what he's doing as he slams his fist into the officer's jaw, and moves quickly towards the area the officer had tried so hard to keep him from. And as soon as the scene comes into his view, he immediately wishes he stayed away.

Sam is lying in Dean's lap, Dean is slumped against a retaining wall, they are both, along with a large area around them, covered in blood, and the 38 still held loosely in Dean's hand is impossible to miss.

John has seen many awful scenes in his life, but the sight of his boys, his only surviving family quickly has him doubled over, heaving violently.

* * *

The next morning, two states away, Bobby Singer is sitting at his kitchen table, searching online newspapers for a hunt when an article from the Morgan County Examiner. "Two teens found dead in shocking suicide."

Something compels Bobby to read on.

_Yesterday afternoon an EMS team discovered the deceased bodies of two young men, who have since been identified as Samuel Winchester, a fifteen year old student of Weldon Valley High School, and his nineteen year old brother Dean. _

_The authorities believe that the younger boy's suicide led his older boy to follow, but this won't be known for sure for some time._

The article goes on for the rest of the page, but Bobby is too stunned to read on. _Suicide?! What the hell?! This can't be right._

* * *

After several minutes, Bobby finally draws himself out of his stupor, and numbly goes over to the phone, and dials John's cell. _It has to be some kind of a mistake, it just has to be._

"Yeah." John's weary, seemingly drunk or hung-over voice comes over the line.

"That you, John? It's Bobby."

"Yeah, it's me. What do you want?" John replies abruptly, his family is gone, and he just wants to be left alone.

Bobby sighs as he says. "I just wanted to check that you and the boys are alright. I found this article, and… Please just tell me that they're alright."

"No can do, Bobby."

* * *

Bobby arrives at John's motel that afternoon, and the very next day, John enlists his help to steal his sons' bodies from the morgue, and he forces his emotions down as he stands in a small clearing in the outskirts of the same park where they died, preparing to do the most difficult 'salt and burn' ever. How can he do this to his own boys?

Just as John prepares to strike the match, Bobby lays a hand on his friend's shoulder, and gently offers. "I can do it, Johnny."

John shakes Bobby's hand away, and before he can reconsider, he strikes the match, and tosses it onto the bed of firewood underneath the pyre holding his two sons.

The pair stands there in silence, watching as the flames rapidly consume the two fuel soaked canvas sheets holding the bodies. And as soon as the flames have died down, John wordlessly walks away from the clearing, ignoring Bobby's calls for him to come back.

That is the last Bobby, or any other hunter sees of him.

* * *

**The End, for real this time. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review, the longer the better, but even just a couple of words would be great.**

**I hope this was alright, I'm not sure about the ending, or the rest of it for that matter, so I'd really like to hear what you all thoguht of it.**


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